


An exasperated bear

by raiyana



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Genre: Celegorm reborn, Father Christmas Letters shenanigans by author who has not read canon, Innumerable Stars treat, skinchanger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 14:11:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20437349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/pseuds/raiyana
Summary: I blame Narya for the existence of this.Celegorm isoon a Quest.He thinks he maybe should have listened to the stories of crossing the Helcaraxe that Irissë once told him...Bersa knows so.Or, in which the Quest of an elf derails the life of a bear who is only trying to do Father Christmas' bidding...A treat written for amyfortuna because a discussion of her prompt lead to a cracky thought that turned unexpectedly plotty... And because I like the bear.





	An exasperated bear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amyfortuna (elwinfortuna)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elwinfortuna/gifts).

She had _tried_.

Hard.

No one could say she hadn’t _tried_ to fulfil Father C’s request.

But this guy – no, that was an insult to guys everywhere, really – _this bloody-minded fool_… it was no surprise he’d been killed, for sure, and really one could only wonder how no one had seen fit to drown him sooner or something.

Like at birth.

Growling to herself, hauling the possibly-drowned carcass of the Elf out of a hole in the ice, Bersa cursed the Elf, Father C, _herself_, and whoever else came to mind, starting with whoever had been meant to teach the Elf how to walk across ice.

_Bloody eedjit. _

Celegorm groaned. His throat was on fire.

This was a slight surprise, all things considered.

He was also reasonably warm – which was a greater surprise, really, considering his last memory was a vivid recollection of icy water rushing into his lungs as he stared up at the whiteness of the hole he’d dropped through.

That had been oddly peaceful, a floaty feeling that he was quite sure should have resulted in a blaring horn and waking up in Mandos – again – to the hollow-eyed vision of Curufin that had grown from the elf his brother had once been, cured and hardened from sly-but-soft to the one they’d called the Crafty for reasons unrelated to his hands’ work.

But Mandos hadn’t hurt last time. And his throat had been slashed to ribbons, then, along with the assorted collection of stab wounds he’d earned in the bloody hours of butchery – so being drowned should have been even _less_ painful, in his opinion.

He groaned again, just to feel the fiery burn of it, the raw flesh reminding him vividly that it was still _flesh_.

“You…” someone – _female?_ – wheezed, “are a bloody _eedjit!_”

“Wha-?” Celegorm huffed – or tried to, at any rate, though it ended up as more of a painful exhalation than a word.

“Eedjit,” she sounded out carefully. “_Eeedjit._”

Celegorm blinked.

The face staring down at him scowled back, white hair snarling down dark brown skin, deep yellow-brown eyes lit with fury.

She sort of reminded him of the bear, really.

He shivered.

There was a fire close by, and he wasn’t feeling exactly _cold_ – but on the other hand, Irissë had told him that was a sign of what she called hypothermia, so maybe not a good thing – despite being naked.

“Who…” he wheezed again, glaring at the girl – she reminded him a little of that Man his brother had been fond of, what was her name… _Haleth_, that’s it. Same fierceness of soul.

“You really are a first-rate fool,” the girl told him, “but maybe you’ll not die.”

Then she moved.

And that’s when Celegorm realised they were both naked, limbs tangled together like lovers.

The Elf fainted.

Bersa sighed.

It had seemed such an easy task when Father C asked.

Escort Huan’s Elf to Huan, taking him across the Frozen Northlands – some sort of test, she had thought, though she hardly cared why the Elf needed testing – and she would be well-rewarded.

The Elf blinked himself awake again.

Bersa smiled.

It was the sort of smile seals might see just before she killed them, admittedly, but she did smile.

The Elf did not seem comforted.

_Good_.

The hole in the ice had been only the latest of his near-death experiences and her nerves were frayed. Huan's promised reward better be _excellent_.

“You should sleep, if you can – drowning takes a lot out of people,” she told him, crawling off his prone body. He shivered, staring at her with those green eyes, oddly fearful - of her nakedness, more than the harm she could do him as weak as he was, which made her stomach turn a little. 

The girl had to be some sort of dream, Celegorm decided, though he couldn’t quite work out why his subconscious would make up a person just to scold him for almost getting himself killed. On the other hand, Curufin – and the rest of their brothers, to be fair – would have agreed with both the sentiment and the word choice if _he_ had been around, so maybe it wasn’t that odd at all.

He felt too terrible to care.

Coughing set his throat alight once more, merely breathing made his lungs feel like they’d been scraped raw, and he was altogether miserable, missing Huan’s comforting bulk – and shaggy fur for heat – more than he’d done since the Hound had abandoned him.

Not that he blamed his oldest friend, really – no matter what, he could not claim to be the same Celegorm who had hunted with Oromë’s kin, and Huan’s disfavour was only surprising in that it had been so long in coming.

Testing his clothes – almost dry, the cloak would do for a blanket – she put some more wood on the fire, stretching her woman-body and feeling the slight chill from the mouth of the cave.

“I’ll go hunt,” she muttered, stepping out of the light once she had spread the cloak over him. “Try not to kill yourself while I’m gone, Eedjit.” 

She would not be happy if he made her hunt him down - and neither would _he_. 

Shuddering into her other form, she snuffled happily, enjoying the warmth of fur, and set off into the night. 

Shivering under his cloak, Celegorm reached towards the merry fire, hardly feeling the heat of it as he stared into the leaping flames, memories of tree-lit hunts with the large dog loping beside him appearing among the dancing flames. 

He didn't notice girl disappearing, lost in the old dream that had set him on this journey to begin with.

"... Huan..."

The Elf was asleep when Bersa returned, dragging the steaming carcass of an elk.

He was smiling.

Innocently, like a babe in arms, almost, and she shook her head at him, amused.

"Bloody Eedjit," she mumbled, voice still hoarse with months of disuse though her human hands set to the task of skewering choice bits of meat to roast over the fire with accustomed grace.

She had no kettle - the Elf had lost his supplies beneath the ice, trying to save himself - but a stretch of the hide hung over the fire sufficed to heat water even though the smell of burnt fur scorched her nose.

It was a rudimentary broth – cooking her meat had never been her favourite way of eating after all – but if he couldn’t swallow bites yet, at least it would heat up his bones a little.

“Eedjit,” she called, reaching out to shake him awake, those green eyes hazy with dreams and pain, pitiful whimpers scratching his raw throat. “You need to eat a bit. It'll warm you.” _I am not delivering you to Lord Huan half-dead._

It hurt to swallow, but the meat tea was quite possibly the best thing he’d ever eaten, the smell of the roasting meat making his teeth water.

The girl was not imaginary, though she _was_ naked. She crouched by the fire, tending the meat carefully so it didn’t burn, pieces farther off smoking slowly.

The kill had been made by an animal, Celegorm knew, glancing at the slashed throat and belly in an attempt to ignore the nakedness of his companion. It didn't quite work, her skin gleaming softly, the colour of a ripe nut in the light of the flames. 

“Thank you,” he croaked, resting the bowl in his lap. “You saved my life.”

The girl huffed, looking at him over her shoulder. “So I did,” she agreed, watching him with those golden eyes. Unsettling.

A slight shiver passed through her when a gust of wind stuck icy fingers through the mouth of the cave.

“You…” Celegorm hesitated, but it would be poor repayment for his life to let her freeze to death. Maitimo would have glared at him with that disappointment that had been hard to face when things were still good, and harder still after everything had already turned to darkness. He lifted the edge of the cloak, feeling an echo of stubborn strength holding the too-heavy fabric. “Share what heat I might have,” he offered, wincing at the feel and the sound of the words in his throat.

The girl smiled to herself, looking over at him. “Chivalry isn’t dead, I see,” she teased, “but never you worry for me, Eedjit.” Moving a few of her skewers, she grinned, baring the teeth that were too… _toothy_ to be human. Gesturing at his bowl, she held out her hand, filling it with the succulent bits of roasted meat. “These are for you, for breakfast.” Nodding at the remains of the elk, her grin widened. “And that is for me… now.”

Later, Celegorm would not be able to think of what happened next without a mingled sense of awe and jealousy, mingled with strong nausea.

The girl transformed into the bear he had come across some weeks before, familiar white fur - her hair had been that colour, too - spreading over growing muscle accompanied by sickening cracks of bones reshaping themselves.

He couldn't imagine how much it would hurt... And still a part of him wanted to learn how.

She panted a little, large shoulders rolling beneath the fur, testing her limbs and stretching.

Huffing at him in something he knew was amusement, she turned towards the elk, powerful jaws and teeth making short work of the remains.

Celegorm stared.

Bersa finished her meal with relish, feeling strength flow into her muscles along with the languid sense of well-being from her full belly. She turned, grinning at the wide-eyed look on the elf’s face, licking her bloodied mouth.

Moving slowly, she passed the fire, coming to a halt behind the elf, who stiffened in proper appreciation of the nearness of her teeth and claws. Huffing at him, she pushed him a little closer to the fire, lying down behind him. _Heat_, she told him, in the language of bears, feeling a wary relaxation come over him. _Safe_.

For now, at least. The cave was decent shelter, and with her body on one side and the fire on the other, he probably wouldn’t freeze to death in the night, even though his clothes weren’t dry yet. The cloak wrapped around him was still damp in spots, too, but it hardly mattered to her, and the elf was in no condition to complain either.

When he burrowed into her warmth in his sleep, she merely sighed, the gust of breath moving a few pale strands of hair on his head, and fell asleep herself.


End file.
